The Arabah will blossom and bloom…

Learning to Live All Over Again

I saw the pictures today… how he just welcomed his new son… how he transferred to a new hospital… how he is learning to live all over again, this time without legs.

I can’t pretend it didn’t ache.

I can’t pretend I didn’t wish for things to be different; I wished those boys had a Daddy who could chase them and lay on his back and flip them on his knees, like my kid’s daddy does.

And I wish the burden just a bit easier for the family and thousands and thousands of families the world over crushed by a fallen, sliding world that we can’t keep in orbit.

But wondering how the world can carry on doesn’t in fact help anyone.

Calling on the One who spoke it into existence and sustains it’s every blade of grass, who changes earth’s inhabitants like a garment, who sees the gazelle giving birth in the secret place and the sparrow plummet and Who carries each of His beloved ones to their dying day… drawing near to Him helps.

Because when I press against His heart, I hear something. I hear steady. I hear calm. I hear no crisis.

I hear complete confidence from a God in complete control who creates something from nothing and who calls Himself Love.

We are safe.

Somehow, Jake knows this. Somehow, he believes.

Somehow, he found his way close to that Heart before the ugliness of his circumstances told him to despair.

Wait. Maybe that’s just it. Perhaps that Heart told him there is no ugly. Just a dark glass that we look through that distorts things, giving the appearance of ugly. And Jake chose to believe.